


you've got the answers to my confessions

by segmentcalled



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: (like two brief instances ok), Anxiety, Begging, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dysphoria, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Extended Scene, Fluff and Smut, In Public, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Riding, Sexting, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, but not a lot, except it developed some plot so like, light humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/segmentcalled/pseuds/segmentcalled
Summary: It starts, as so many things do, with a late-night text conversation.





	you've got the answers to my confessions

**Author's Note:**

> [title from make me feel by janelle monáe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNAwPvfF2Os)
> 
> the usual I'm A Trans Author disclaimer + also, the kink has Literally Nothing to do with brian being trans and they do, in point of fact, explicitly discuss this. this fic features some Ignoring Reality Where Inconvenient so no one is weird about it ever!
> 
> i have little to say except for i am so very sorry this was supposed to be a quick little oneshot but i was the opposite of kinkshamed i was kinkenabled. kincouraged. shoutout to the SPECIFIC PEOPLE, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, who are the reason i actually went through with writing this way-too-long monster of a fic and who said things that i stole verbatim to use as lines in this fic. i love you guys, thank you for dealing with me yelling at you at all hours of the day about patbri, you're seriously the best
> 
> not always depicted, but heavily implied, is just a whole fuckton of kink negotiation. like so much. feel free to daydream about it as i have, it is just not all included because i couldn't do it justice sdfgkjhfds and also this is LONG ENOUGH ALREADY GODDAMMIT

It starts, as so many things do, with a late-night text conversation.

Brian can’t sleep; he’s stressing about PAX, and there’s something going on across the street that involves just a whole lot of sirens and flashing lights, and Pat, night owl that he is, is more than willing to field Brian’s chatter.

_I’m just saying, like, the metatextual continuity of piss jokes is a little suspect._

—_Brian I swear to god if you pull your English degree on my weird internet brand_

_I’m teasing!_  
_Mostly_  
_I’m curious but you have no obligation to tell me anything if you don’t want to of course._

—_Oh my god_

_I’ll tell you my weird kinks in exchange, if that makes you feel better about it. It’s seriously nbd for me. I’ll confess I’m not really into bathroom stuff but to be fair I’ve never tried it, and for you I’d certainly give it a shot._

—_How are you the most fuckin chill person in the world abt this sort of thing_  
—_I’m not even_  
—_Like_  
—_I’m not actively into piss but you being so cool abt it makes me almost want to try it_

_Almost, you say? ;)_

—_Almost I say_  
—_If I was gonna try weird kinks that wouldn’t lead my list, is what I’m saying_

_Ohohoho_

—_Noooo this is why I shouldn’t text at 3am I lose all concept of judgment_

_Like I said I won’t press you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable saying. Promise._  
_I’d definitely want to know, if you wanted to tell me._  
_Hell I’d give you a whole spreadsheet of shit I’m into_  
_Color coded and everything :P_

—_If you tell me your biggest one I’ll tell you mine_

_Sounds like a deal ♥_  
_On your mark get set go?_

—_Pregnancy_  
—_Fuck you’ve been typing for so long_  
—_Brian I’m sorry_

_For me it’s pregnancy, although it does require either a good imagination/dirty talk, or in the wild event that it did happen that means a sort of lifestyle play that would be a lot to handle, especially since I’m not interested in having kids, or at least not in the foreseeable future_

—_I swear we never have to even touch it if it makes you uncomfortable I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said it at all_  
—_What_

_I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to make you anxious, I got carried away explaining and didn’t even see your text_

—_Holy shit_

_Are you okay?_

—_I can’t believe_  
—_You’re not like just saying that right_

_No I swear I’m not_  
_It’s really fucking hot, Pat, I don’t blame you for being into it._

—_I’m going to like try and not have the rest of this panic attack_

_Omg nooo baby I promise it’s fine_  
_Like seriously no bullshit I’m so fucking into it that it’s almost embarrassing._

—_I just really don’t want to_  
—_Like_  
—_Be an asshole about gender stuff or something_  
—_It’s not like it’s necessarily You Specifically or anything_

_You don’t have to couch it baby I promise._  
_And it’s allowed to be specifically me ;)_

—_Jesussss_

_Do elaborate_

—_Bodies are so fuckin weird I was freaking out and then you were like ok but consider this I’m into it too and then like I actually let myself think about it for 2 seconds and_  
—_Yknow_

_Tell me what you’re thinking about babe ♥_

—_I might still be too embarrassed_

_Okay I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about then_  
_Ngl I’ve been into this since before I knew what a kink was, like, it’s super old hat for me and totally not a big deal. Idk if there’s any feminization in it for you (if there is we can work with it? No judgment here, we can find something that works for both of us) but it’s totally gender agnostic for me._

—_Gender agnostic is a good term for it_  
—_Feminization isn’t really my thing either tbh_

_Ok cool. Good to be on the same page_  
_Oh maybe it would be worth it to check like are you into being the one getting knocked up or the one doing the knocking (lol)_

—_Why are you such a nerd_  
—_(the latter)_  
—_(sorry)_

_No sorries baby we are PERFECT for each other_  
_Do you know how often I daydream about that exact thing?_

—_I swear to god I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop here_

_There’s no other shoes love. Literally it’s my for-real-and-actual biggest kink._  
_I’m super incredibly open to working shit out about it. Admittedly I don’t really want kids especially not at this point in my life but there’s plenty of workarounds._  
_Like I said, a good imagination will take us a long way. Also sexting/dirty talk._  
_Also like to be 100% transparent I’m not even totally opposed to_  
_Like_  
_If it actually happened_  
_I’m sure we’d be able to figure it out_

—_Holy shit_

_Sorry that’s a lot_

—_No_  
—_I mean like yeah but not in a bad way_  
—_Like in a really fucking good way_

_Like in a you have a boner way?_

—_Yep_

_Tell me what you’re thinking. Be as blunt as you like. I want to know._

—_You would look so good pregnant_

_You think?_

—_Fuck yes baby you’re so hot already. I wouldn’t be able to get anything done I’d just be thinking about you or looking at you or fucking you. God you’d look amazing_

_Gosh I want you to fuck me so bad if it wasn’t so late I’d drag myself over there for a booty call lol_

—_We can FaceTime if you want_  
—_Or just keep talking about it like this_

_Is one preferable to you? Like is it easier for you to talk or to text these things_

—_Maybe texting right now actually_  
—_I’m not sure if I could get the words out lmao_

_Okay we can stick with this then! Works just fine for me ♥_  
_Wow I’m so happy that we have this in common_  
_That’s not a sexy thing to say I’m just really glad cause I love you a lot and I love to explore these things with you and honestly if there was anyone in the world I’d consider actually trying this out with it’s you._  
_I’d let you knock me up irl_

—_You can’t just say these things without WARNING holy fuck Brian_

_Sorry_

—_Don’t be it’s just really hot you keep fuckin no scoping me_  
—_Are you for real or is that just part of the scenario here_

_Both maybe?_  
_Idk it’s one of those things where, like, I wouldn’t set out to do it, but if it happened I wouldn’t be opposed at all. The only thing that’d stop me would be the whole parenting thing lmao which is… kind of ironic._

—_Ironic maybe but also seconded._

_So I guess what I’m saying is, if it ever did happen, I’d be happy for it to be with you._  
_Who knows I know Tara’s been thinking about a surrogate LMAO_

—_Brian_  
—_Holy fucking shit_

_Sorry. I’ll dial it back. I know it would mean a lot of long-form play and we wouldn’t be able to just ditch the scene if we needed to. It’s all very real-life. I know. I’ll put it back in the fantasy realm. Sorry for getting too intense there_

—_No_  
—_I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound like I was shutting you down I was just_  
—_Really surprised_  
—_Frankly I didn’t think that’d be something you’d ever consider given our profession_

_For sure it would take a lot to work out. And that’s why I’m like, maybe not re: actively pursuing it. But I am saying that I’m fine with occasionally being a little lackadaisical with protection b/c also like I want you to cum inside me real fuckin bad soooo_  
_Yeah_

—_Goddamn baby you are for real hitting all my buttons here_  
—_Are you getting off rn_

_Yeah I’ve got my vibe on I keep getting distracted by talking about serious parts of this though rip_  
_But I think we covered the main shit and we can talk more later about details/specifics so like_  
_Tell me what you wanna do to me babe ;*_

* * *

The bedroom door falls shut behind them and Pat pushes Brian against it, pins his wrists above his head and kisses him rough and desperate. Brian moans against his mouth, rolls his hips against his leg.

“Fuck me, Pat,” Brian gasps.

“Get on the bed,” Pat says, breathless, releasing him, and he strips his clothes off as he goes. Pat pauses to rummage through his nightstand. “Shit,” he says.

“What?”

“I forgot to pick up more condoms after the last time you were here.”

Brian waves a hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

“Uh. You sure?”

“If you’re comfortable with it, so’m I. I want your cock in me, daddy,” Brian says, and flutters his eyelashes. Pat makes a choked sound. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting you to cum inside me for _ages_.”

“A convincing argument,” Pat says, eyes wide, voice tight. Brian can see the outline of his cock in his jeans, fully hard.

“If you’re really not okay with it, we can stop, or do something else —”

“No, I am, I just want to make sure you’re on board —”

“I’m _so_ on board.”

“— then let’s fucking _go_.”

Pat hurriedly strips to match Brian, too worked up to even be sexy about it, which is, honestly, plenty hot in its own right. He all but fucking pounces on Brian as soon as he’s undressed, pushes him down into the bed and kisses him like he’ll die if he doesn’t shove his tongue in Brian’s mouth right this fucking second. Jeez Louise, if this is what reunion sex with Pat is like, Brian suddenly doesn’t mind missing E3 at _all_.

Brian likes to top, quite a lot in fact, but there’s nothing quite like letting go to let Pat pin his wrists to the mattress and take him hard and fast, make him shout and wail and beg and moan, legs wrapped around Pat, Pat sucking bruises into his neck and chest, ones he’s going to have a hell of a time trying to hide on Monday but that he can’t even bring himself to give a shit about right now.

“You’re perfect, Brian, _fuck_,” Pat says, soft, rough, close to his ear. “I wanna make you fucking _scream_, baby.”

“Please oh _god_ Patrick Gill oh my god I need it I need you please cum inside me please please _please_ —”

“Be patient,” Pat says. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, baby boy.”

Brian keens and rocks up to meet him as he snaps his hips forward, slams into him with force. Pat pushes his hands into Brian’s hair and gets his mouth on Brian’s neck again — like recognize like, they’re both easily reduced to incoherence when their necks are touched.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Pat says. “Y’know what I think?”

“What?”

“You’d look even better pregnant,” he hisses into Brian’s ear. “I wanna breed you, baby, you’d look so fucking good. You take me so well.” He pulls back a little, drags his hands down Brian’s front, presses his thumbs against his abs. Brian’s slim, but not paper-thin like Pat, with just enough comfortable softness that Pat can paw at him satisfyingly. “Look at you, sweet thing, you’re incredible. You’d look so good with your belly swollen.”

Brian moans and arches into his touch.

“You like that? Should just keep you close, fuck you whenever I want, ‘till I’ve obviously knocked you up and you’d still want more, baby, wouldn’t you? God, I’d _love_ that,” Pat says, with such unexpected (and horny) sincerity that it almost stuns Brian. “I’d have you sit on my dick and ride me whenever I’m ready to go. Whenever I wanted. I’d keep you pregnant, keep breeding you. I wanna see that belly of yours big and round with my babies, you’d look so fucking good, Brian — _fuck_ —”

“Please, Pat,” Brian says, breathy, desperate, “make me come, come inside me, please, _please_ I need —”

He halfway to shrieks, partly out of pure surprise, partly out of the shock of sensation when Pat reaches between them and fucking jams his fingers on Brian’s clit, maybe not having expected to catch him dead-on like that because he backs off a little at Brian’s reaction. Even so, he knows exactly how the fuck Brian likes it, knows exactly what to do to get Brian to cry out and grab at him and keep going until he’s whimpering with overstimulation with Pat’s cum inside him and Pat’s fingers teasing at him until Brian pushes his hand away and pulls Pat down for cuddles.

Brian curls up against him, presses his face against Pat’s chest. They’re both warm, and kinda sweaty, but their legs are tangled together and Pat’s running his fingers through Brian’s hair and he has absolutely no intention whatsoever of moving.

“How was your flight?” Brian says, muffled against his skin. They’d, uh, been a little preoccupied by texting about their plans as soon as Pat’s plane landed, and then by making out as soon as Pat let Brian into his apartment, so, oops, he hasn’t actually really heard about anything yet. What can he say, they’re fucking meticulous about fucking. Brian and Pat both know perfectly well he’s got half a box of condoms in the drawer, but it’s so much more _fun_ this way.

“It was fine. I slept for most of it. There weren’t even any screaming infants this time,” Pat says.

“Is that even allowed? I didn’t know there was a plane in existence that didn’t feature a screaming baby.”

“Premium seating for gamers only.”

Brian snorts. “Dork.”

“You love me.”

“I do. And you’re a great big dork.”

“I’m a sleepy dork,” Pat says, snuggling into the blankets. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, promise. I love you.”

“Okay, baby. I love you too. Sleep good.”

Pat’s bedroom is a lot brighter than Brian’s when the sun comes up; it wakes him up earlier than he ordinarily would be awake. But Pat’s arm around him keeps him in bed, gives him an excuse to bury his face in the pillow and sleep a little longer.

Well, until Pat wakes up, that is.

“Pat,” Brian murmurs, as Pat kisses the back of his neck, splays his hand out on his belly, “Patrick, c’mon, we gotta get up.” His thighs are sticky, where Pat’s cum leaked out of him as he slept, and he can’t decide if he wants to shower or revel in it a little longer.

“Don’t wanna,” Pat mumbles. “You’re warm. Hot, even,” he adds, and Brian feels him smile.

“We should. It’s almost noon. C’mon, baby.”

“I wanna fuck you,” Pat says, and, well. Brian hums and spreads his legs, arches his back, lets Pat push into him. They’re both sleepy, too cozy and comfortable for anything much wilder than Pat thrusting into him slow, leisurely, like he’s enjoying every individual movement, every goddamn inch he slides into Brian, steady and unyielding.

Brian pushes Pat onto his back, repositions them so he’s straddling Pat. Pat looks up at him, with those steady dark eyes, as Brian puts his hands on Pat’s shoulders for balance as he fucks himself on Pat’s cock. He keeps the same unhurried pace, but now he gets to watch Pat’s face, gets to see his eyes flutter closed as he moans.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Brian says, brushing Pat’s hair out of his face. Pat looks up at him with such open adoration that it knocks Brian’s breath out of him for a second. “I love you so much, Pat Gill.”

“I love you,” Pat says. He takes Brian’s hand and presses it to his cheek, then turns his head to press a scruffy-bearded kiss to his palm.

“You’re all scratchy,” Brian teases, and rolls his hips to make Pat gasp instead of complain back at him.

“Forgot to pack a razor. You like me scruffy anyway,” Pat says, a little breathlessly.

“I do. The midpoint between bare-faced and scruffy is, however, scratchy. Just be beardy all the time, it’s so hot.”

“Yes, I trust your judgment on facial hair, absolutely,” Pat teases, poking at Brian’s upper lip. Brian rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be a brat, I’m riding you ever so nicely,” Brian says, and emphasizes his point by picking up the pace a little, clenching around Pat in that well-practiced way that makes him moan. “You can’t quit teasing, I’ll sit on your face instead, see if you can’t put your money where your mouth is.”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m too sleepy to be a real brat.”

“I think you’re lying, but, I mean, I’ll still sit on your face, if you want it that bad,” Brian says, and winks at him.

“I just — _fuck_ — I just want you to feel good, that’s all, you’re gorgeous and I _missed_ you this week, fuck-_iiing fuck Brian_ I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing this —”

“Good. Come for me, baby,” Brian purrs. He drops down against Pat to get his mouth on his neck, which always makes Pat’s breath catch, and he bucks up against Brian and Brian bears down on him as he comes.

They stay still, pressed together for a long moment, until Brian sighs and pushes himself up. “I’ve made an executive decision,” he says.

“Mm?” Pat says, gliding his fingers over Brian’s clavicle, down the center of his chest, his stomach.

“I would like to shower before you go down on me, I think.”

“Fair,” Pat says. “I’d do it now, anyway, for the record, you know.”

Brian ponders for a moment. “It is pretty fucking hot to have you eat your own cum out of me,” he says pensively, and watches Pat’s eyelids flutter at that. “Maybe we can multitask. I feel sticky and it’s officially hit the threshold of gross and not hot.”

“Whenever I go down on you in the shower I always end up getting water up my nose,” Pat complains.

“Them’s the breaks, baby boy,” Brian says cheerfully, and Pat groans.

“Let’s go, c’mon,” Pat says, with feigned exasperation, and Brian kisses him in appreciation.

* * *

Really, it’s just Brian’s luck that he gets sick right _after_ flu season, but he is well and truly suffering for a solid week. Laura, who is a saint, and Jonah, who is long-suffering, deign to fuss over Brian in turns, since they both work weird hours and they’ve seen Brian in every possible state so it’s not a big deal if he feverishly cries on them. He _hates_ being sick. He hates missing work, hates not being able to see Pat, has a real and actual fear of throwing up so every time that happens he breaks into sobbing panicked tears until someone dabs at his face with a cool washcloth and pets at him gently and he collapses into their arms, wrung out and exhausted.

—_Do you want me to come over?_

_No, I appreciate the offer, but I freak out really bad when I’m sick like this. I don’t want you to see it. Laura knows how to handle it, I’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon. I love you so much._

—_I love you so much. If you need anything, I’m here for you. I can be there in 15 mins._

_Thank you baby. ♥_

Inevitably, both his roommates get sick too, as soon as he’s starting to feel better, but neither of them are half as knocked out by it as him. He does hide at Pat’s, because he’s not totally convinced he won’t catch it right back again, and also because he’s had enough panic attacks re: an inconvenient phobia recently that neither Laura nor Jonah fault him for wanting to stay away. Laura texts him reassuringly, like, _honestly we seem to have missed out on that symptom which sux for you but at least you don’t have to worry about that even though you’re not even here and don’t have to worry_. Brian informs her that he always has to worry, that’s the nature of the beast, and also fuck both of you ‘cause he still keeps feeling nauseous and that’s not even fair.

Laura says _sucks to suck_ and Brian sends her the middle finger emoji.

So: his partial residency at Pat’s continues. This is not atypical. He spends most of his time here anyway. He’s got a bunch of clothes at Pat’s; some of his favorite shirts, even. He grabs that brightly colored button-down he loves, ‘cause he’s gonna be on film twice today. He better look good, even though he’s running a little late.

It’s tighter on him than he remembered. Maybe it shrunk? It’s tight across his chest in a way that would’ve given him the _real_ bad feels before he’d gotten top surgery, and still stirs a twinge if it somewhere deep in him. The broad stripes outline the shape of his body in a way he hasn’t paid a lot of attention to lately, the curve of his chest and belly.

“Pat?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you come give me a second opinion on this shirt?”

Pat sticks his head into the bathroom, and looks Brian over. “Christ, Brian, you look hot as _fuck_.”

“It’s not too, like, tight?”

“It’s fucking sexy,” Pat says emphatically. “I dunno when your pecs got like that but _Jesus_. Suplex me, daddy,” he teases. “Your arms look fuckin’ great, too. Goddamn. Hurry up and get ready before I jump you in the damn bathroom.”

“Mm. You wish,” Brian says, and kisses him, just slow enough to leave him wanting, but not too long to dawdle further. Pat palms his chest over his shirt, drags his hands down his torso, then over his arms, and moans against Brian’s mouth, so fucking genuinely that it chases away any remaining doubt. Brian regrettably has to push him away so they don’t make themselves late for work, but _damn_.

He’s fidgety during filming anyway, partly because he’s always fucking fidgety and partly because he’s hit with another wave of self-consciousness as soon as they sit down at the table for _Overboard_. He exchanges a quick glance with Pat, who flashes a reassuring smile in his direction, even though Brian knows Pat’s nervous as hell sharing space with any celebrity-type person, so Brian tries to give him a comforting smile in return. Maybe it’s just destined to be a high-anxiety day.

The shoot passes in a blur, though; once they actually get going, it’s easy enough to get swept up in the game and laughing with people he likes and even though his weird feelings keep needling at him, he’s able to put it aside for the time being. And then he’s got to catch up on the stuff he needs to actually do today, and then he’s got to rush over for the _Dimension 20_ live show, and he doesn’t even have time to catch a breath or spend more than a few seconds with his thoughts until he’s at Pat’s.

Pat sweeps him into a hug once he gets inside, kisses him slow and sweet.

“Hey, baby,” Brian says, grinning. He rests a hand on Pat’s chest. “You catch the show?”

“Yeah I did,” Pat says. He’s smiling, too. “It was great. You were amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

Brian kisses him again. “You’re too sweet. D’you mind if I shower? It was a lot of fun but I’m so frickin’ sweaty.”

“Go for it. I already did, so I won’t intrude.”

“Darn,” Brian teases, and kisses him one more time before he goes.

He spends more time at Pat’s than at his own place, really, so it’s not that much of a novelty anymore to use Pat’s shampoo and soap and smell like him, but it still fills him with a warm sort of happiness. Like coming home. He should probably, maybe, think about making the relocation official, but that means Laura and Jonah would need to find a new place, and, honestly, so would he and Pat, probably, ‘cause they’d be sharing a room…

This logic puzzle keeps him distracted until he gets out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist, stands in front of the mirror to run a brush through his hair and brush his teeth, absently avoiding his own eyes and scrutinizing himself for the source of whatever the fuck was making him so uncomfortable today. It’s not, like, abnormal to gain or lose some weight, that’s typical and it’s not even something that actually bothers him, he’s twenty-five and probably due soon enough to hit that brick wall of not being able to eat garbage without it affecting him anymore, but —

He’s hit by a freight train of a realization as he examines himself, prods appraisingly at hips and tummy and chest, about the reason he’s been feeling so fucking weird, about just exactly why he’s been so unsettled about his body —

He joins Pat in the bedroom in a daze. He gets into bed and lays down and Pat curls around him as the big spoon and he says, “Pat,” with a little bit of a waver in his voice.

“Mm?”

“I think you knocked me up.”

Pat stops fucking breathing for a second. “I’m sorry, what?” he wheezes.

Brian takes Pat’s hand and rests it on his stomach. Pat is, behind him, very fucking still. He’s scared to turn around and look at his face. “Betcha it was after E3,” he murmurs. “It times out. Look.” He moves Pat’s hand to cup the curve of his belly, hardly noticeable without intimate familiarity, but yet distinctly there.

“Oh my god,” Pat says. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck, he’s shaking a little. Brian twists, now, to look at him; he’s staring at where their hands rest on Brian, his eyebrows drawn in an expression Brian can’t even begin to parse.

“What’re you thinking?” Brian murmurs.

“That we’re gonna have some real awkward conversations at work,” Pat says. His eyes flick up to Brian’s face, with a wry twist of a grin. “What d’you think?”

“A lot of things,” Brian says delicately. “Are you. Are you upset?”

Pat’s expression breaks into something softer and he pushes his face against Brian’s cheek. “No, baby, not at all. Promise. I love you so much, okay? I think — I think it’s incredible. It’s, uh. Just. Wow.”

“Yeah,” Brian says softly. “Me too. Can I be honest?”

“Mhm.”

“It also, uh. Turns me the fuck on.”

“Oh Jesus Christ I’ve had my hips all the way back here so you wouldn’t notice my boner,” Pat admits in a rush, and Brian doubles over laughing.

Once he calms, though, he reaches around and grabs Pat’s ass, pulls him forward against him.

“Fuck me,” he says, voice low. Pat’s hands slide down, splay out over Brian’s belly, as he pushes into him. Brian moans, just at the sensation of being full of his cock. “Fuck, Patrick, I want you to come inside me, I want you to — to — _god_ I wanna feel it.”

Pat presses a kiss behind Brian’s ear. “You want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t take it anymore? Not satisfied even with your hot little body getting bigger like this ‘cause of me? You want everyone to _know_, don’t you. Want everyone to see you’re fucking _mine_.”

“Please, Pat, _please_,” Brian says, voice breaking as he begs. Pat pushes on his shoulder, gets him face-down, ass-up, lets gravity aid him in the places Pat’s hands immediately go to.

“Jesus Christ, Brian,” Pat breathes, unrepentantly feeling Brian up, “holy fucking _shit_.”

“It hitting you now?” Brian says, a little breathless.

Pat’s grip tightens on him. “Baby, I don’t even know how to tell you how — fuck — how hot it is that you — that you’re —”

“Go on. I wanna hear you say it,” Brian says.

Pat is panting, thrusting into him helplessly, like he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, and says, “I’m so fucking turned on just at the thought of you carrying my child and it — and it’s real, I can feel — feel the change, fuck, Brian, I did this to you.” His voice goes a little ragged, at the end, and in any other circumstance it might be read as guilt but Brian knows it’s not.

“Yeah you did,” Brian says. “I fucking _love_ it.”

Pat gives this choked half-sob of a sound and clings to Brian as he comes. He leans forward, as he catches his breath. “Sorry, fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to come so fast —”

“‘S all good,” Brian says, wriggling out of his grasp and flopping down on his back. “You can, like, eat me out and put your hands all over me or, god, whatever you want.”

“That sounds ideal,” Pat says, and pushes his hair back out of his face as he settles between Brian’s legs.

It’s really fucking late by the time they wear themselves out, and later still once they’ve managed to clean up and get back in bed. Pat is usually obstinately the little spoon, and Brian’s almost surprised when Pat lays down behind him except, oh, of course, it’s perfect for Pat to rest his hand on Brian’s stomach. _Hell_ yes. He’s got months of being the little spoon ahead of himself to look forward to, then. Brian puts his hand on top of Pat’s and twists to look at him.

Pat is sleepy-eyed, but still manages a faint smile at Brian and nuzzles his face against Brian’s cheek.

“I love you,” Pat murmurs.

“I love you too.”

Pat runs his fingers through Brian’s hair, and sighs.

“Yeah, same,” Brian agrees to his sigh. “God, we’re gonna have to have so many friggin’ responsible conversations — oh. Oh my _god_.”

“What?”

“Laura is _never_ going to stop making fun of me.”

“Oh god we have to tell our _families_,” Pat groans.

Brian wrinkles his nose. “‘Oh Bri I knew you were gonna settle down with some nice man someday and have babies,’” he says, in an affected nasal old-person voice. He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. We can deal with that when it’s not four in the morning. I wanna sleep.” He rolls over and tucks his head under Pat’s chin, and Pat holds him close, kisses the top of his head.

“Sounds like a plan. G’night, baby.”

“Night,” Brian mumbles against his chest, and closes his eyes.

* * *

He’s — more nervous than necessary, to say anything at work. Probably half his coworkers know he’s trans, by now, so it’s not a big deal, but he — he just doesn’t want the conversation. But he’s running out of options, out of button-downs that don’t gape open, out of t-shirts that aren’t increasingly obscenely tight.

His sex life is _outstanding_. When they’re alone, he and Pat can’t keep their hands off each other. 

But it’s — he’s in videos. He wears a looser shirt, but he notices looking back over the footage that he keeps folding his hands over his belly, that if he stretches certain ways the fabric still pulls tight against him.

Which is, maybe, disproportionately hot. Which, maybe, he gets a thrill from when he’s on camera, thinking how he’s gonna be in sight of so many people with this sort-of-secret hidden in plain sight. Which, maybe, Pat pulls him aside after he watches through the Overboard footage and hisses into his ear — _you see yourself in that video? what are people gonna think of you? gay and petty and oh what’s that? maybe a little bit pregnant?_ — and shoves his hand down his pants and his other hand up his shirt and makes Brian moan in the fucking gender-neutral bathroom at work because they are both the absolute worst.

And, fuck, _Unraveled_.

The first episode where it’s truly, definitively clear as soon as he tries to put his suit on that it’s not happening, he sits down on the bathroom floor and fights back panicked tears. This is — this is his _thing_, this is why he’s here, this is what his role is, he’s — he’s —

Someone knocks on the door.

“Occupied,” Brian says, and his voice breaks real rough in the middle of the word.

“It’s Pat. Are you okay?”

Brian hauls himself to his feet and pushes the door open just a little bit, just barely enough to let Pat slip inside. Pat takes one look at him, at the unbuttoned shirt, the unzipped pants, the flushed near-tears face and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, baby. We’ll find something for you to wear, and Clayton and I will get your angles right, okay? We can rework it a little and make this the season finale until you’re good to be on film again.”

Brian’s halfway to hyperventilating against Pat’s shirt. “I don’t wanna lose my _job_.”

“Brian, no, what?” Pat says, pulling back to look at him, hands on Brian’s shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re fucking _brilliant_. Everyone loves you. You know that, right? Even if we have to put _Unraveled_ on a pause, even if you can’t really do videos for a few months, I know that it’s gonna be okay. I love you. I’ve got your back. I promise.”

“Okay,” Brian says, and sniffs, and steps back and wipes his face with the heels of his hands. “Sorry.”

Pat kisses his cheek. “Don’t be. Let’s get your clothes back on and then we can go have some conversations, okay? I won’t leave your side, I swear.”

“Thank you,” Brian says faintly, as Pat hands him his shirt off the counter. He pauses, then shrugs off his hoodie, too, the oversized comfy one that he likes to wear when he’s filming, the one Brian loves to steal, the one that’s big enough for him to hide inside right now. “‘Bout time we filled out that HR paperwork, anyway,” he jokes, with a weak anxious smile.

“Fuck, I sure do hope we did that already,” Pat teases back. He kisses Brian’s head, after he pulls his shirt on, and hands him the hoodie. Brian puts it on and zips it all the way up, feels more like he’s able to breathe when it hangs off him loosely. He pulls Pat into a hug and tucks his head under his chin.

“Stupid thing about this is I can’t just tap out when I need to, like, be a functional person at work,” Brian says, against Pat’s shirt. Pat runs his fingers through Brian’s hair.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. The choices we made brought us here, and that just means sometimes it might kinda suck. I knew what I was getting into.”

Pat hugs him tighter. “I love you. Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

Brian sighs, and stays quiet for a moment, pressed close to Pat. “Guess just stick close. I, uh. I’ll try not to freak out while we’re talking to anyone.”

“If you do get anxious and need to leave, I’ll handle it, okay?” Pat says, stroking his thumb over the nape of Brian’s neck, where it makes him melt to be touched. “I got you. I promise.”

“I love you,” Brian says, muffled against Pat’s shirt. “You’re the best.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do, yeah?’

Brian tilts his head up and kisses his jaw. “Don’t you get all guilty, mister. Let’s go talk to Tara before anyone finds us in the bathroom together.”

“Yeah, that’s never happened before.”

“Simone was _discreet_ about it, alright? It’s _fine_.”

Pat scoffs but takes the lead, so they can go talk to their boss about the goddamn shenanigans that are about to keep Brian from being able to do his job. God, his life’s gotten weird.

* * *

Brian flicks through the shirts hanging up in the closet that he’s officially moved into, as of the start of the month, post-recruiting all their friends for simultaneously moving Brian one way and Laura and Jonah another. He’s just trying to find something suitable, jeez, it would be nice if either of them had a taste for oversized sweater fashion, or if Pat was built like Jonah and didn’t wear the same size shirts as Brian, or —

“What’s up?” Pat says, appearing behind Brian, wraps his arms low around him, beneath the not-inconsiderable curve of his belly.

“Can’t find anything to wear for the thing tomorrow,” Brian sighs, tilting his head back to rest against Pat’s shoulder. Pat kisses his head. “Should probably quit stealing shit from Jo and actually get clothes that fit, huh.”

“Are you up for an adventure? We can go try and find something.”

Brian sighs. “I dunno. I know I should, but I also know I’m gonna, like, be all fucky about it no matter what.” He makes a face.

“Is there anything that’d make it easier on you?” Pat says, because he’s the best. Such a gentleman. He’s not even feeling Brian up, even though by all rights he could be; he’s shirtless and wrapped in Pat’s arms. Brian wouldn’t mind it, if he did, it honestly helps to get into a space where it’s hot rather than something to get freaked out about. Which. Hey. There’s a thought.

“Maybe we could, like, make it a thing?” Brian says. “Fuck around about it, find a way to play with it instead of being afraid of it.”

“You know I’m always down for that,” Pat says, and Brian turns to face him, smiles.

“I think I’ve got some ideas, then.”

Which leads them to, not too long later, Brian stripped naked, standing on the floor with his hands on the bed, legs spread as Pat fingers him, movements languorous and deliberate. Pat presses kisses to the backs of his shoulders, runs his hand down Brian’s chest, pauses when he gets to the curve of his belly. He scoffs and twists his fingers inside Brian, wrenches a moan out of him.

“Look at you,” Pat says, breath hot against Brian’s ear. “Can’t fucking resist, huh? Like all you wanna do is take my cock. See where that got you. I bet you can’t even button that shirt you used to wear, the one you were wearing the day you told me I knocked you up. I want you to put it on. Let me see you.”

Brian whines when Pat pulls his fingers out of him, hips rocking forward against nothing, head hanging down as he pants for breath. Pat grabs Brian by the hair and yanks his head back.

“Did you fucking hear me,” he growls. “_Move_.” He shoves Brian, and he staggers a half-step. “What are you staring at? Closet’s right there.”

Brian finally pulls his wits together enough to follow instructions, to flip through shirts until he finds that bright-colored flannel and pluck it off the hanger. He looks at Pat, half-expecting praise, but Pat just raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms and waits. So Brian takes a steadying breath and shrugs the shirt on, goes for the buttons but Pat snaps at him to _stop_ and he freezes.

“Get on the bed.”

Brian sits on the edge of the bed and Pat hooks a finger under his chin, tilts his head up to look at him, deliciously impassive, edging on scornful.

“Try it, Brian,” Pat says, low and sharp, and Brian’s hands are shaky as he fumbles at the buttons, starts at the bottom because fuck, he can see that he’s not even gonna be able to make the halves of the shirt meet, and he twitches at the thought and wants to get to that now.

“Jesus,” Pat says, with a very convincing air of disdain for someone who just broke character into wide-eyed arousal for a full several seconds. He grabs the fabric of the top of the shirt, pulls it closed over Brian’s chest, and even that’s a stretch, and now Brian’s got it held close to buttoning beneath his stomach but the swell of it sticks out hopelessly, with no chance of fitting into this shirt that was, honestly, tight on Brian even before.

“Pat,” Brian whimpers, because he’s trying not to grind down on the goddamn blanket he’s sitting on; he’s so wet, he feels hot and desperate and needy. Pat lets go of his shirt and pushes him down to lay back on the bed and Brian spreads his thighs, tries to make himself as pretty of a picture as he possibly can.

“You need me this bad already?” Pat says. He puts his hands on Brian’s inner thighs and pushes his legs apart further, testing his flexibility. “Fucking _look_ at you. You’re getting so big. _Everyone’s_ gonna know now. You know that? They’re gonna look at you and see how you beg for my cock, beg for me to cum inside you. I know you, Brian, I know you live for that shit. Quit fucking _wiggling_, I’m gonna give you what you want when you’re ready for it.”

Brian whines and digs his nails into his palms, utilizing every goddamn ounce of willpower not to buck his hips up.

“Can’t believe you’re still so desperate for me like this. Not like I can knock you up more than I already have,” Pat says, and Brian moans. “Hah. You like that thought? I’m not even surprised. Can’t fit in your fuckin’ clothes already and you’re still begging for more. You just wanna get bred, don’t you? You look so fucking beautiful like this, you know you do, you want it all the time, huh?”

“Yes,” Brian gasps. “Yes, _yes_, Pat, please —”

Pat pinches the inside of his thigh and Brian hisses in pain. “Needy little thing.” God, the _disdain_, it’s fucking incredible. “You’ll take what I give to you and no more or less. I bet you’d do anything I asked. I bet you’d get on your hands and knees and let me fuck you ‘till you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. You’d have my cum dripping down your thighs, be fucking crying, and you’d still want more, wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes, yes, god, fuck, _please_, I need it, Pat, I need you inside me so bad, _please_ —”

He cuts off, his breath hitches, when Pat thrusts into him, not gently, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs, holding his legs up and open so he can fuck him standing and there’s nothing he can do to move, to change the pace, to do anything other than just fucking take it. Pat’s hair falls in his face and he doesn’t seem to notice or care, too focused on the very goddamn athletic tempo at which he pounds into Brian, hard enough to shift him on the bed, to make him gasp and moan.

“This what you needed?” Pat says, obviously trying for something more stern but it just comes out breathless. “Just wanna be full of my cock, huh?”

Brian tries to speak, to say something glib and flirty back, but instead Pat drops one of Brian’s legs to rub at his clit and his words are gone, he gives a voiced gasp instead, a sound filthier than he could’ve managed if he tried. Pat curses and tosses his head in a vain attempt to get his hair out of his face. He slows his roll a little, trying to do too many things at once, and in exchange grabs the thigh he still has a hold on more tightly and works his fingers relentlessly on Brian, driving ragged gasps from him, making him keen and whine until his muscles spasm around Pat as he comes with a shout.

Pat’s nails dig into his thigh and he moves his other hand off Brian’s junk but, oh lord, he’s managed not to come yet which means Brian’s in for at least one more orgasm, more if Pat can further master his self control or if he lets Brian sit on his face. His expression is tight, tense; he’s gritting his teeth and Brian can see the effort it’s taking for him to keep himself together, muscles taut, careful-still.

Pat’s breathing hard but he gets back to it quick enough, this time cupping his hands over Brian’s stomach as he fucks into him.

“Look at that. Can’t cover you with my hands anymore,” Pat says. It’s true; it takes his hands splayed out to cover most of the surface area of his swollen belly, and his thumbs only just touch. He might be exaggerating, holding his hands in such a way that is deceptive, Brian can’t tell, and doesn’t want to know anyway. “No wonder you can’t fit into anything anymore. Gonna have to get all new shit for you if you want to stand a _chance _of keeping it quiet. If you even want that. Maybe you want everyone to see you huge and pregnant, show off for them, show the world you’re fucking _mine_.”

“Please, Pat, _please_,” Brian says, chest heaving as he gasps for breath.

“Please, what?”

“Please, I want you to cum inside me, get me off again, please, Pat, I need it, I need _you_.”

“You’re so desperate for me, want me inside you so bad, like it’ll even do anything more’n I’ve already done to you —”

“Yes, I know, fuck, I just want your cock, I’m yours, you can do whatever you want to me just _please_,” Brian says, and Pat growls and runs a hand down Brian’s body to between his legs to work his fingers mercilessly at his clit until Brian hits a second climax with a shout, sends Pat over the edge too.

Pat pulls him close to press kisses all over his face, pet his hair, whisper soft urgent _I love you_s between kisses.

“You’re beautiful, Brian, you’re perfect, I love you so _much_,” he says, and Brian tilts his chin up to steal a kiss.

“_You’re_ perfect, Pat Gill. I love you too, sweet thing.”

“Gosh you make me nervous when you go all quiet like that,” Pat says, pushing his face against Brian’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Brian says, running his fingers through Pat’s hair. “To be fair, it’s ‘cause you knocked all the words out of me in a real good way. Which is usually the case, baby, I promise you don’t gotta worry.”

“Tell that to my anxiety,” Pat huffs, and Brian pats his cheek.

“You’re just fine, Pat. Promise. I love you and that was _spec-tac-u-lar_.” He hugs him tight. “Did you like it?”

“Fuck me, yeah, I sure did,” Pat sighs, and Brian laughs.

“Baby, I’m quite sure you’re not getting fucked for a hot minute, given what we just did.”

“Will you let me have one turn of phrase without making a dick joke!”

“Nope!” Brian says, popping the _P_. “Anyway, I think we should shower and go on our adventure before I decide to take a nap and never leave this bed.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t mind a nap.”

“You’re the sleepiest person in the world and you don’t even have an _excuse_,” Brian complains at him, tugging on his arm. “C’mon, it was your suggestion for us to go.”

“And it was your suggestion to drain the life out of me via my dick first.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know life force was stored in the balls,” Brian deadpans, and keeps an impressively straight face for all of a half-second as Pat doubles over laughing.

“I _hate_ you,” Pat wheezes.

“You love me. Come clean up with me. I am _not_ gonna look like a dumbass at Tara’s tomorrow. Also I swear to god if anyone acknowledges my participation in this whole endeavor I’m going to, to, to just leave. It’s Tara’s thing, not mine. I’m there as her _friend_, not ‘cause I’m doing this.”

“I made that really fuckin’ clear, don’t worry,” Pat says. “Also, like, no assholes are allowed. Most you’ll get is Simone quoting that weird [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EShUeudtaFg) at you.”

“That’s just every day,” Brian says. “And also, like, half our texts.”

“Why are you guys like this,” Pat sighs.

“Says the man who makes piss jokes three days a week live on air.”

“Okay, fair point,” Pat says. He gets up and holds out a hand for Brian, who stands and then is reeled into a hug. Brian closes his eyes and gives a deep sigh. “You okay?” Pat says.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“Sorry for wearing you out.”

“Nah, it’s good. You’re good. Plenty worth it,” he says, and steps away to, like, exert some self-control and actually get in the shower so they can actually accomplish anything for the rest of the day. Pat looks like he’s trying to be covert about the way he checks Brian out, but he’s not subtle literally at all. “Like what you see?” Brian says with a wink.

“‘Course I do,” Pat says, following him out of the bedroom. “You’re perfect.”

Brian leans against the sink counter, his back to the mirror, and lets Pat track down towels. “So what’s your review, babe,” he says.

“Hm?” Pat says, glancing up at him.

Brian gives a vague handwave in the direction of himself. “Living up to your expectations?” He’s teasing, mostly, pretty much just angling for a blowjob while Pat’s already kneeling to get towels from the cabinet, but Pat studies him harder than Brian had really hoped he was going to.

“Of course, Brian,” Pat says, with such gentleness that it nearly aches. “Did — did you — have I done something to make you think —”

“No! No, not at all.”

Pat scoots over to rest his head against Brian’s thigh; Brian strokes his hair. “I love you. You’re amazing. I wouldn’t change a thing, baby.”

“I just — y’know. It hasn’t — like — it hasn’t been just fun stuff.” Wow, way to yank the rug out from beneath that mood.

“I never expected that it would be,” Pat says. He wraps his arms around Brian’s leg. “You’ve said before that you knew what you were getting into, that it wouldn’t always be easy for you. I knew that too. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I love you, and I love being with you, and I’m here for you even when stuff is rough. Besides, it’s not like we didn’t plan it.”

“I mean, it was a _little_ unplanned.”

Pat looks up at Brian and raises his eyebrows. “Tell that to your five different calendar apps, I swear to god you were fuckin’ scheduling sex to the hour for a while there.”

“Okay, okay, whatever, I still didn’t even realize ‘till way late so who even knows,” Brian says. “Also fuck off, I was not. Uh. Not _that_ specifically, anyway.”

Pat laughs.

“Look, what’d you expect? Half my professional qualifications are spreadsheet-related —”

“And also your personal qualifications. You have an Excel kink. It’s fine. No weirder than the shit I’m into.”

“Shut _up_,” Brian says, laughing, shoving at Pat’s shoulder. “I wanted to do this right, okay? Especially because it’s — y’know, ‘cause Tara.”

“You know she’d have waited as long as it took. Or gone with, like, something a little more legit than her weird gay coworkers to have her baby, if she got impatient,” Pat says, cavalier as ever.

Brian shrugs. “I just like to be organized. This is important shit.”

“Honestly, I just can’t believe she was like, yeah okay I would love for my child that I am going to raise to have Gill and Gilbert genes,” Pat quips, finally standing. He kisses Brian’s cheek.

“Yesterday she threatened me that she’s going to call and complain to us every time she’s annoyed.”

“I believe it. ‘God dammit, Brian, this kid never fuckin’ shuts up,’” Pat says, in his disarmingly good Tara impression. Brian laughs and swats his arm.

“Bet you anything she complains at you more than me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not the one doing all the work here. You don’t deserve to be complained at, after all this. Frankly, if I were in your shoes I’d be _doing_ all the complaining. You’re braver than the fuckin’ troops or whatever the meme is.”

Brian snorts. “No one’d want to be around me if I complained every time my back hurts or whatever, on account of it’d just be a constant stream of whining because, guess what, the fun part of this is there’s always something worth complaining about.”

“I would,” Pat says, far too genuinely for Brian’s joke. “I always want to be around you.” Brian ducks his head and leans into him affectionately.

“That’s why you’re the best. Okay for _real_ we need to shower because I have nothing to wear to the stupid baby shower and if we don’t go shopping today I’m not gonna _go_ and then you’ll have to explain to everyone that you were too busy being gay to let me get clothes that fit.”

“It’s my fault now?”

“Baby, it’s been your fault this whole time,” Brian teases, and Pat scoffs at him. “Shush, Pat Gill, I love you and you are the light of my life and you are a terrible distraction and fifty percent of the cause of ninety-nine percent of my current complaints.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” Pat says, but he’s grinning. Brian huffs a sigh at him but he’s smiling back, he can’t help it. He leans up to kiss Pat, a series of sweet quick smiling kisses until they’re both giggling at each other like a couple of nerds. But, like, nerds who are wildly, hopelessly in love with each other.

Out of the ordinary as things might be, as strange and silly and hot and weird and confusing and stressful and outright wonderful as it all is — he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> OHOHO!!! REVEALED IN THE FINAL ACT THAT IT WAS ALL METICULOUSLY PLANNED!!!!! SURPRISE!! IT B LIKE THAT
> 
> sorry for the dumb meme reference but i remembered that video existed and all i could think of was simone and brian texting each other nothing but lines of it for like a solid week after he tells her sdfkjdfsk  
REALLY THERES A LOT FOR ME TO BE SORRY FOR HERE BUT, WELL, IT EXISTS
> 
> please be nice sdkjfgshdfkjg i'd love a comment if you liked it im very self conscious about this one. comments of course deleted on request! i won't tell [griffin you know gif]
> 
> @segmentcalled on twitter / comment if you req!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [think I need someone who can handle it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301727) by [pleasert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasert/pseuds/pleasert)


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